


a jacket's tale

by nightswatch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of things that happened when Sirius let Remus borrow his beloved leather jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a jacket's tale

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank [weisbrot](http://weisbrot.tumblr.com/) for sending me a drawing of Remus wearing Sirius' jacket, which is why I started writing this fic in the first place.

**July 1976**

When Remus steps out of the Potters’ fireplace, brushing ashes off his shirt, James is already waiting for him. Anxiously, it seems. Remus barely has time to look around when James already comes running toward him from the kitchen table. The kitchen seems to be empty otherwise.

“There you are,” James says. He sounds incredibly relieved.

“Sorry.” Remus bites his lip.  “I would have come last night, but–”

“No, Moony, don’t worry about it,” James says, his eyes flitting to the bruise that’s peaking out from under Remus’ shirt.

Remus would need to wear a scarf to hide it, but since it’s the middle of summer it would be even more conspicuous. Although it seems that it’s nowhere near as warm here. The rain is coming down in sheets, there’s a low rumble in the distance. _Fitting_ , Remus thinks. Anyway, he has a nice list of excuses laid out, just in case anyone asks what happened.

He really wanted to come yesterday – the full moon wasn’t so bad, it’s mostly bruises, a cracked rib that his parents’ healer fixed yesterday morning, a few scratches. When James’ owl fluttered in through his open bedroom window last night and Remus read his note, he crawled out of bed, his body protesting in every possible way, to tell his parents that he needed to go. He wasn’t even going to ask. In the end, his mother smiled mildly and gently shoved him back into bed.

This morning he insisted that he had to leave. They let him go, but Remus could tell that they didn’t like it. If the way James is looking at him is anything to go by, Remus probably still looks like a walking corpse.

“Thanks for coming,” James says, hands buried deep in the pockets of his trousers. “I know you weren’t too happy with him, because of… that thing. With Snivellus. You know. The, uh, incident with the–”

Remus nods, which effectively silences James. He knows, but there’s really no point in dwelling on Sirius’ stupidity right now. He’s already decided that he won’t hate Sirius forever, so holding a grudge wouldn’t really be fair either. “Where is he?” Remus asks and looks around as if Sirius might be hiding somewhere in the kitchen when that’s very obviously not the case.

“Outside,” James says lowly.

“He’s _outside_?” Remus asks, eyes flicking to the window. It’s nasty out there.

“Don’t worry, I mean, you know how he is, he’s just being dramatic. Anyway, there’s a roof over the terrace.”

“What happened?” Remus asks. James’ letter wasn’t too detailed on the matter, he just asked him to come by as soon as he could, because Sirius showed up on his doorstep unexpectedly and refused to tell him what’s going on.

James shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“He still hasn’t told you?” Remus frowns. “He showed up last night?”

“He wasn’t supposed to come until a week from now and at first I was joking about him confusing the dates, and then he said that he knew perfectly well what date it was and that he… well, that he didn’t know where else to go. And that’s all I know.”

“You didn’t ask him?”

James looks like he wants to give him a shove. Remus is eternally grateful that he doesn’t. “Of course I bloody asked him. He just didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t talk to me, or my parents. Mum just sent him to bed and he didn’t come downstairs until fifteen minutes ago and my parents are already at work, and I asked him if he wanted breakfast and he just shook his head and now he’s sitting outside. He turned down bacon, Moony. _Bacon_. This is bad.”

“And what do you want me to do?” Remus asks. “If he refuses to talk to you, then he surely won’t want to talk to me.”

“Why?”

“You’re his best friend.”

“Yes,” James says, waving his hand at Remus, “but you’re Moony.”

“I don’t see how…” Remus trails off into a sigh. He gets it now. “Oh. You think he still feels guilty about what happened with Snape and will tell me whatever I want to know.”

“Pretty much.”

“You’re a dick,” Remus says and walks over to the terrace door. Sirius is sitting outside, not in one of the chairs, but at the edge, staring out into the rain.

The Potters have a beautiful house, a garden full of apple trees, enough space to play Quidditch, no neighbours close by to see anything they’re not supposed to see. Admittedly, when Remus came here for the first time in the summer before second year, he was a little jealous. He still is, to be honest. Just a little bit.

“Still, he talks to you about stuff, doesn’t he? The two of you are always hanging out while I’m at Quidditch practice,” James says. Well, Remus can’t really argue with that. “Come on, just ask him what’s going on. Or at least shove some bacon down his throat so I don’t have to worry that he’s starving.”

Remus doesn’t even have to look at James to know that he really is worried. “I won’t guilt-trip him into telling me,” he says decidedly and opens the door. He gives James a nudge. “Take care of breakfast.”

James nods and darts out of the kitchen, probably to find their house elf to take care of breakfast for him. Remus, in the meantime, steps outside and makes his way over to Sirius, who either didn’t hear him, which is unlikely, or just doesn’t feel like acknowledging his existence. It’s chilly out here, but Sirius is wearing a jacket. Remus received a letter about said jacket about a week ago when Sirius found it in some Muggle shop. It’s the leather jacket he’s been dreaming about all his life, apparently.

Remus replied to congratulate him on his purchase and told Sirius about his summer and the truly catastrophic visit of his Muggle aunt who kept asking him the most invasive and uncomfortable questions. They sent a few letters back and forth; in the last one, Sirius wished him a pleasant full moon, followed by a, _No, really, Moony, take care of yourself._ He never mentioned his family or that anything at all was wrong, just told him that he was roaming around Muggle London mostly.

And now he’s sitting on the Potters’ terrace, shoulders hunched, legs drawn up against his chest. Remus sits down beside him, no quite sure what to say. It’s hard to think of something when he doesn’t even know what exactly happened. “Hello.” Well, it’s a start.

“Moony,” Sirius says. And that’s it. He stares down at his boots, picks at his fingernails. Sighs quietly.

Remus sits next to him and waits. It’s strangely unsettling to sit next to a quiet Sirius. Sirius is never quiet, he always says what he thinks, usually very loudly. He overshares. There are things that Remus wishes he’d never heard.

A gust of wind blows rain into their faces, but Sirius doesn’t seem to notice. Remus wants to reach out, hug him, maybe, although Sirius is usually the person who gives other people hugs, whether they’re wanted or not. If Remus was the one sitting here, looking miserable, Sirius would turn into Padfoot and slobber all over his face. But Remus can’t turn into a massive cuddly dog. There’s nothing cuddly about him or the wolf he transforms into each full moon.

Sirius shifts closer, although Remus isn’t sure if it’s intentional or not. Remus nudges his arm. “I like your jacket.”

“Thanks,” Sirius says. He chews on his bottom lip. “What’re you doing here?”

“James asked me to come.”

Sirius huffs. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“No, mum, I’m fine.”

At least that tickles a smile out of Sirius. That’s all, though.

“You left,” Remus says, trying to figure out what happened so Sirius doesn’t have to tell him. “For good?”

Sirius nods. He clenches his fist, then unclenches it again.

There’s that low rumble of thunder again, not so distant anymore now. “You have to tell James.”

“He already knows,” Sirius mutters. “You already knew before you came out here.”

“Yes, although I’m sure James and his parents would like to know what exactly happened,” Remus says. “They’re worried about you.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Well, I suppose they want to know if you’re staying permanently.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can’t stay here.” Sirius shakes his head. “I’ll figure something out.”

“’Course you’re staying here,” James says. He’s leaning in the door, grinning at them. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to tell you that breakfast is almost ready. There’ll be bacon. Glad you remembered how to speak, Padfoot.” He wiggles his eyebrows at them and then vanishes again.

Sirius groans. “I can’t do this to them, they already have one obnoxious son,” he says, loud enough for James to hear it too.

“Come on,” Remus says, “let’s go back inside.” It’s cold out here and the wind is starting to pick up. Remus suppresses a shiver, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring a jacket.

“In a minute,” Sirius mutters. He glances at Remus, at the goosebumps on his arms. “You’re cold.”

“I’m all right,” Remus says.

Sirius tuts and shrugs off his jacket, carefully draping it over Remus’ shoulders. “Where’s your cardigan, Moony, you don’t look like yourself.”

“It’s not exactly cardigan weather at home,” Remus says.

Sirius smirks. “Maybe you should get a leather jacket, too. Maybe we all should. We could be a gang. I mean, we already are, sort of, but having leather jackets would make it official.”

“I miss my cardigans already,” Remus whispers. He’s aware that they’re persistently not talking about why Sirius is here, but they’re talking and that’s enough for now. Remus is sure that James will eventually tickle it out of him one way or another.

“Do you think Prongs will let me eat all his bacon because he feels bad for me?”

“It’s not totally out of the question.”

“Can I have yours, too?”

“No,” Remus says, grinning at him.

Sirius gasps in mock-horror. “I gave you my jacket. My brand new, beautiful, everything-I’ve-ever-dreamed-of jacket. Giving me your bacon is the least you can do.”

“I’ll think about it,” Remus says. Maybe he’ll let him have a piece or two, because he really does feel bad for Sirius. But, to be honest, Remus is also glad that he finally left.

Sirius lightly bumps his shoulder against Remus’. Remus takes it as an unspoken _thank you_.

 

**November 1976**

Remus yawns heartily. He wanted to go to bed two hours ago, much like the rest of Gryffindor House. The common room is completely deserted, yet Remus is still here, his Transfiguration textbook in his lap. He constantly seems to be behind on his reading; he honestly has no idea how everyone else deals with this. Everyone else isn’t a werewolf, he reminds himself. He rubs his eyes. Then he keeps reading.

He has no idea where his friends are. Of course he could check the map, but the map is unreliable and it’s upstairs, hidden in James’ trunk, most likely. Remus has absolutely no wish to dig through James’ trunk right now, or ever.

Peter is probably with his girlfriend – yes, he has a girlfriend now and he never gets tired of reminding them all. One of these days Remus will have to stop James from strangling Peter, much like he has to stop himself from strangling Peter. It’s not that he isn’t happy for Peter. Really. But Peter has reached a level where he talks about his girlfriend more than James talks about Lily Evans.

Remus isn’t sure where James and Sirius are. Exploring, they said. They took the cloak, so Remus has already guessed that they’d be staying out for a while. He’s not waiting for them, strictly speaking, although he does want to know if they found anything new. Or if they got detention for sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night.

He’s also a little worried about Sirius. On some days Remus thinks that nothing has changed, then on other days Sirius lashes out, or withdraws from them, or gets in trouble for fighting with other students for no apparent reason. The latter isn’t anything new, although those were pranks, usually, and not actual fights.

Remus sighs and turns the page without having read a single sentence. It’s quite fascinating how Sirius manages to distract him although he’s not even here. Remus pinches the bridge of his nose. Recently, he figured out that it’s easier not to look at Sirius. At least in certain ways. Remus isn’t sure why he hasn’t caught on until now, really, everyone else seems to know that Sirius Black is one of the most handsome people at this school. And Remus has always agreed, but in the end Sirius was always just Sirius. Now he’s Sirius who’s incredibly handsome and has soft hair and won’t take off that leather jacket. Which isn’t a complaint, by the way, Remus likes it when Sirius wears the leather jacket. The point is that he shouldn’t look at Sirius in certain ways.

He has no idea what’s wrong with him. Well, he does, but he doesn’t like to think about it. Especially, Remus doesn’t like to think about what his friends might say if they knew. He constantly tries to tell himself that they’re okay with him being a werewolf, too. Anyway, wizards don’t see these things the same way that Muggles do, they don’t make that big of a deal of it. The problem is that it’s Sirius. Of all people. It’s _Sirius_. And what would Sirius think if he ever found out?

Quite frankly, Remus isn’t too keen on finding out. He stares down at the page in front of him, the words starting to blur. It probably wouldn’t hurt if he closed his eyes, just for a moment. It’s a terrible idea and he can feel himself drifting off to sleep, but he’s also too tired to drag himself up the stairs to the dormitory, so he stays where he is.

He’s hardly aware of the voices as they come closer and he doesn’t open his eyes. Remus listens to them with half an ear; he’s too tired to realise that they’re not actually part of a dream.

“Oh, looks at little Moonykins,” Sirius says.

“Adorable,” James coos.

“Should we… you know, tell him that he’s asleep in the middle of the common room?”

Remus is very well aware of that, thank you very much. He’s also not awake enough to care.

“Don’t wake him up,” James says, his tone surprisingly stern.

“I could levitate him up the stairs,” Sirius suggests.

“You’ll drop him.”

“I could _carry_ him.”

James groans. “Seriously, you’ll drop him. Just leave him be.”

“But the fire’s almost out, he’ll get cold.”

“Then he’ll wake up and come upstairs,” James grumbles. “Come on, Padfoot, I’m tired.”

“Just a second…”

Remus can hear one pair of feet shuffle away, then his book is carefully pried out from under his fingers. There’s some huffing and rustling, then something heavy and warm is dropped on Remus. He wants to say thank you, he’s pretty sure that he actually does, but it sounds mostly like incoherent mumbling to him. Doesn’t matter, he’s warm, and he’s comfortable. He hums and turns over.

Another pair of feet shuffles up the stairs and Remus is fast asleep again a moment later. When he wakes up, the fire is almost out and the common room is doused in a faint orange glow. Remus’ book is on the table, the page he left off at is marked with a bookmark. Remus sits up, blinking at the dark piece of cloth that’s now lying in his lap. Upon closer inspection, Remus finds that it’s Sirius’ leather jacket.

Remus remembers those voices in his dream that sounded a lot like Sirius and James, except that they obviously hadn’t actually been part of his dream. Remus can’t quite wrap his mind around why Sirius would leave his holy leather jacket in the common room with him. Then again, it’s the middle of the night and Remus just woke up.

He gets up, slowly, stretches, and picks up his book and Sirius’ jacket. He puts it down on Sirius’ trunk up in the dormitory, making a mental note to thank him tomorrow morning, then he quickly changes into his pyjamas, the stone floor cold under his feet, and slips into bed, the covers pulled up to his chin.

Before he goes back to sleep, he glances over at Sirius’ bed. His curtains aren’t drawn, so Remus has a spectacular view of Sirius, lying on his back, leg sticking out from under the covers, his mouth open, hair all over his pillow and his face, snoring quietly. He shouldn’t still look attractive. Remus rolls his eyes at himself and shuts his curtains with a flick of his wand.

 

**March 1977**

The first thing that Remus becomes aware of when he wakes up is the chilly air on his skin. Something tickles his nostrils – _dust_ , his brain supplies. He feels like there’s something heavy sitting on his chest, his bones ache, his skin feels too tight and too loose at the same time. He breathes in, carefully. Thankfully, the pain doesn’t get any worse.

Remus doesn’t want to open his eyes yet, so he tries to assess the damage whilst lying completely still. Usually he can identify the spots where the bruises are the biggest, where the scratches are the deepest, but today it’s just a dull ache all over. Remus blinks – the light that’s filtering in through the boarded-up windows is still soft and grey.

It’s early, which means that he must have transformed only moments ago. He hardly ever remembers what happened during the full moon, it’s just flashes of memory, a lot of them blurry. What he does remember are the transformations, but only the ones when night falls and the moon rises, hardly ever the ones in the morning. Sometimes he wonders if it’s a defence mechanism.

He stares up at the ceiling for a moment, at the cobwebs, at the slashed canopy, falling apart ever since Remus can remember. He’s on the bed, which is a bit of a novelty, really. When he first started spending his full moons at the Shrieking Shack, as they call it now, he always woke up on the floor, claw marks around him, together with scattered bits of torn apart furniture. During the last few months, it’s been different. Padfoot must have found some way to coax the wolf up onto the bed.

Remus closes his eyes again at the thought of Sirius. Last month he woke up with Sirius, not Padfoot, snuggled up against him and while Remus usually wouldn’t have made a fuss, because he lives in a dorm with three other boys who have absolutely no sense of personal space and who climb into bed with each other as they please, it wasn’t the same thing.

Because after the full moon, Remus, without fail, wakes up stark-naked, which is not something that Animagi ever have to worry about. Remus isn’t sure why it made such a huge difference to him that it was Sirius and not Padfoot. Because technically it doesn’t matter. Sirius himself wasn’t too fazed and didn’t really see the problem, but Remus still found that he wasn’t able to look at him for at least half a week.

He sits up and pulls at the blanket that lies, untouched, at the end of the bed and wraps it around himself. Under the circumstances, Remus would almost say that he feels fine. It’s a rare occurrence, to put it mildly. He inspects his arms, but finds nothing more than a few light scratches.

Madame Pomfrey won’t come to get him until the sun has fully risen, so he might as well take a nap. He’s sure that James and Peter are still downstairs – Prongs never comes up here, the stairs wouldn’t survive, and Wormtail stays with him while Padfoot stays with the wolf. Remus’ eyes flick to the black ball of fur next to him, all the air gone from his lungs when he sees the blood on the sheets. Because, for once, Remus is not the one who’s bleeding.

“Pads,” Remus mutters, “Padfoot.”

Padfoot’s paw moves in his sleep, but other than that he doesn’t stir.

“ _Sirius_ ,” Remus says loudly.

Well, at least that gets his attention. The dog blinks and a moment later it’s Sirius, quickly sitting up. “Moony, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Remus says dismissively, inspecting Sirius with narrowed eyes. “You’re hurt.”

“I…” Sirius frowns, as if he hasn’t even noticed, then he shrugs off his leather jacket and holds up his arm. “Oh, that.”

Remus pulls at Sirius’ wrist to take a look at the cut on his arm. It has already stopped bleeding, it seems, still, Remus can’t help but worry. “You have to go to the hospital wing and–”

“And tell good old Poppy that I bumped into a big scary werewolf in the forest last night? I don’t think so.”

“I did this,” Remus mumbles. Of course it was him. He should have known that something like this was going to happen sooner or later. He might not be able to turn his friends into werewolves while they’re animals, but they could obviously still get hurt, the wolf could still hurt them and–

“Remus,” Sirius says intently, “it wasn’t you. I just meant that she’d get suspicious, I didn’t mean that you did this.”

“I didn’t?”

“Not unless you can also turn into a bush with really huge and nasty thorns.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “You should still have that looked at, it doesn’t look so good. Say you tripped.”

“I don’t trip,” Sirius says, shaking his head at Remus like he can’t believe that he even suggested that. “And I _always_ look incredible. This just makes me even more intriguing.” Sirius waves his arm around and then flops back down on the bed. “Why’re you up so early anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Remus says and lies down again as well, pulling the blanket up as far as he can.

“Do you think it gets less, you know, painful over time?”

Remus wants to tell him that yes, it’s going to get easier, just so that the worried look on Sirius’ face will go away, but Remus knows for a fact that it won’t ever be less painful or any less hard on him. “I’m afraid not.”

“But you seem, well, not _okay_ , but you talk a lot more than usual. And you haven’t told me to fuck off because I’m talking too much.”

“That was one time. Anyway, it’s not always the same,” Remus says lowly. “It’s happened before that I was feeling all right the morning after.”

“When?”

“Third year,” Remus mumbles. He bites back a yawn. “’m going to close my eyes for a bit.”

Sirius smirks. “You do that.”

Remus hums and doesn’t force his eyes to stay open any longer. Sirius is breathing quietly; the days after a full moon are the only days that Sirius somehow isn’t obnoxiously loud. It hasn’t always been like that either. Remus assumes that ever since his friends started spending the full moon with him, they’re too tired to cause much of a ruckus the day after.

Fingers gently run through Remus’ hair and it almost distracts him from the vague nauseous feeling and the pounding headache that are starting to announce themselves. Maybe he’s not doing that great after all. He draws up his knees and they bump into Sirius, but he’s too exhausted to stretch again, so he leaves it up to Sirius to move away.

Except that he doesn’t. Because when Remus wakes up a while later, roused by a a floorboard creaking downstairs – James and Peter waking up most likely – Sirius’ face is about an inch from his face. Remus’ stomach does a somersault, which really isn’t favourable in his current condition. His breath hitches and Sirius’ eyelids flutter open. Remus isn’t sure why he can’t bring himself to move, because he _should_ move, but Sirius isn’t moving either, his grey eyes fixed on Remus.

He can’t say how it happened, maybe Remus can blame it on the fact that there is barely an inch between their faces, but one moment he’s staring at Sirius’ eyes and the next his lips are on Sirius’. It’s just a second before Remus pulls away, but it still lasted too long to play it off as some sort of accident.

“I’m…” Remus sits up, pulling his blanket with him. _Apologize_ , he tells himself. That’s all he can do, apologize and hope that Sirius won’t hate him until the end of time.

Before he can convince himself to even open his mouth again, someone comes bounding up the stairs. “No worries, it’s just me,” Peter calls and appears in the doorway a moment later. “Hey, Moony, you’re awake.”

Remus only nods. He wants to ask if he and James are okay, but he’s afraid that he might end up saying something entirely different, something that might convey that he’s panicking just a tiny little bit.

“We need to go,” Peter says to Sirius. He looks nervous.

There are more footsteps, then James appears next to Peter. “I checked the map and dearest Poppy just left the hospital wing.” He holds up his cloak. “Gotta dash. Come on, Padfoot.”

Peter smiles at him. “We’ll come by later, Moony.”

“Yeah,” is all that Remus manages to say. Peter and James both wave and stomp back down the stairs. Remus watches Sirius out of the corner of his eyes, too afraid to actually look at him.  

Sirius picks up his jacket from where he discarded it earlier and then crawls out of bed and for a moment Remus almost expects that he’ll do something very Sirius-y and punch him in the face, but in the end he just slings his jacket around Remus and marches off without another word.

Downstairs, James says something that Remus doesn’t quite catch, Sirius barks out a laugh, Peter says something that definitely involves Madame Pomfrey, then there’s a lot of shuffling. The second he hears the trapdoor close, Remus curses colourfully.

At least he knows that Sirius doesn’t hate him. Sirius would never leave his jacket with someone he hates. Or maybe he was in shock, much like Remus is at the moment. He takes a deep breath. Madame Pomfrey is on her way, he knows that much, so he might as well get dressed, since he’s able to do so on his own for a change.

Remus remains sitting on the bed for a moment longer, Sirius’ jacket heavy on his shoulders, then he shrugs it off, pulls his blanket tighter around himself and gets up. He severely regrets that only a second later as the shack starts to blur in front of his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he stumbles over to the dresser he hid his clothes in yesterday and pulls them on, trying his hardest to avoid any other sudden movements.

Madame Pomfrey, at least, is delighted to find him mostly unharmed and already dressed, but still ushers him to the hospital wing to take a look at his bruises and to give him something for his headache. Remus is glad that Madame Pomfrey gives him a potion for dreamless sleep, because his mind still lingers on Sirius before he falls asleep and he really doesn’t want him to haunt his dreams as well.

Remus isn’t sure what time it is when he wakes up, but it’s still light out. The hospital wing is quiet.

Now that he’s lying here on his own, Remus has more than enough time on his hands to reflect on his own stupidity. He tries to remember how it happened, what on earth he was thinking, but he doesn’t really arrive at any other conclusion than that it felt nice. Really nice. Which is rather counter-productive if you ask him.

He honestly has no idea how he could fuck up so tremendously. Sirius might not hate him, but now he also had time to think about what happened this morning, and it’s entirely possible that he’ll never speak to Remus again. Even worse, he’ll probably also avoid him. And that is bound to get awkward. They still have a few months left at school before they go home for the summer and Remus has no idea how he’ll get through them. He groans.

A moment later, footsteps echo in the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey pulls the curtain around his bed to the side. “You’re awake,” she says. “Are you in pain?”

Remus shakes his head. The throbbing pain behind his temples has mostly subsided. “Not more than usual.”

“Well, I suppose you could spend the night in your dormitory if you feel up for it.”

“Definitely,” Remus says. He knows he’ll go straight back to bed the second he makes it to Gryffindor Tower, but this is the first time in years that the doesn’t have to spend the night at the hospital wing after a full moon and he’s strangely excited about it.

Madame Pomfrey smiles at him and hands him a chocolate frog. “Your friend Mr. Pettigrew insisted I give this to you the second you wake up.”

“They were here?”

“Between classes,” Madame Pomfrey says. She doesn’t comment on whether or not it was really all of them, so Remus has no idea if Sirius was here with Peter.

He doesn’t really want to ask either, because Madame Pomfrey tends to get suspicious when he asks too many questions, so he starts unwrapping his chocolate frog.

“I have more potion for you when you’ve finished that,” Madame Pomfrey says before she stalks off again.

“Thank you,” Remus calls after her. His voice is still rough. Howling. He sighs and grabs his chocolate frog before it can jump away.

Classes should be over soon, which is when James, Sirius and Peter usually show up at the hospital wing to keep him company until dinner starts, at least when he’s awake. Most of the time he’s well enough to talk to them, occasionally he tries to catch up on the classes he missed during the day. And sometimes, on the particularly bad days, he just sleeps.

His friends come by not too long after he’s chucked down another one of Madame Pomfrey’s horrible potions. At least the pain mostly subsides afterwards and he’s smiling when James yanks the curtain aside.

“What’s up, Moony,” James says. He huffs when someone bumps into his back. “Watch where you’re going, Padfoot.”

Sirius snorts and steps around James. He looks at Remus with watchful eyes, but doesn’t say a word.

“Pete got detention because he fell asleep in Transfiguration,” James says, sounding awfully cheerful. Well, that explains why Peter isn’t with them.

“Not all of us took a nap on Moony’s feet during lunch,” Sirius says gruffly.

“It’s not my fault that you jumped into that massive thorn bush,” James says and gives Sirius a pat on the back.

“I didn’t jump _into_ it.”

Remus’ eyes flick to Sirius’ arm, now healed, feeling strangely relieved. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, because to Sirius it obviously wasn’t, but he doesn’t want his friends to get hurt because of him. He’s eternally grateful for what they did for him, for what they do for him every month. Still, he’d rather spend his full moons alone than see them hurt.

Remus sits up, wondering if Madame Pomfrey might just let him leave with James and Sirius. “Did I miss anything else?”

“Nothing unusual.” James shrugs. “We were all a bit _absent_ today, apparently. McGonagall yelled at Sirius for at least five minutes because he was staring out the window and then Pete fell asleep. There was smoke coming out of her nostrils, I swear.”

Sirius’ only contribution is a loud yawn.

Remus finds it hard to take his eyes off him. He looks like he always does, nothing is different, there’s no indication at all that anything happened between them this morning. Remus still feels like he should apologize, even though they’re apparently pretending that nothing’s the matter.

“There you are,” Madame Pomfrey says, appearing behind James and Sirius. “I was wondering if you’d like to take Mr. Lupin back to your dormitory after dinner.”

James clutches his heart. “We’d love to.”

“It would be a genuine pleasure,” Sirius adds, winking at Remus.

“Nothing would make us happier, honestly,” James says and grabs Remus’ hand.

Madame Pomfrey shoots James a stern glance before she leaves them alone, still tutting on the way back to her office.

James laughs and lets go of Remus. “So, you’re doing okay, then?”

“Better than usual,” Remus says. “Is Peter in detention all evening?”

“Yep, but he doesn’t mind, he’ll just suck up to McGonagall,” James says and makes a series of unconvincing gagging noises. “I mean, he obviously would have preferred sleeping for about twelve hours, but hey.”

Madame Pomfrey lets Sirius and James stay for dinner, which she’s usually rather reluctant to do. Remus can’t blame her with the havoc that James and Sirius always wreak. A few months ago Remus woke up in a bed covered in sweet wrappers, his friends sitting next to him, laughing and flicking Bertie Bott’s Beans at his head.

James and Sirius are waiting for him outside in the corridor when Remus slinks out of the hospital wing, still feeling a little stiff and sore, but also unbelievably happy because he doesn’t have to spend the night.

Sirius is looking at him curiously. Maybe they aren’t pretending that nothing happened after all or– Remus groans. “Your jacket is still in the Shack.”

“Ah, I was wondering if you were hiding it because you want to keep it,” Sirius says. “Don’t worry about it, Moony.” He turns to James. “Can I have the cloak?”

“I can get it,” Remus says. “I’m the one who left it there after all.”

“Yeah, you’re not going to the Shack by yourself,” James says, shaking his head at Remus.

Remus purses his lips. “Really, I can do it.”

“Well, I’ll go with you,” Sirius says, in that petulant-five-year-old voice of his. “Cloak?”

James pulls the cloak out of his bag. Remus briefly wonders when exactly he’s started taking it everywhere he goes and how on earth he fits it into that bag. Actually, there’s always a lot more useless stuff in that bag than should fit inside by the looks of it.

Sirius blows James a kiss, then he wraps the cloak around himself and a very confused Remus. He could have done this on his own. Madame Pomfrey would be appalled if she knew that he was about to walk all the way across the grounds, but it wasn’t a particularly strenuous journey and the potion she gave to Remus worked wonders.

They very slowly make their way down to the Entrance Hall and slip out the door, walking faster now that they don’t have to make sure that no one catches a glimpse of their feet walking around the castle anymore.

“What a lovely evening for a walk,” Sirius says. His shoulder is pressed against Remus’ and it proves to be rather distracting.

Remus clears his throat. “Yes, very nice.”

They fall silent again. The wind picks up and the cloak flutters around their ankles as they get closer to the Whomping Willow, but there’s no one around to see them here anyway.

“Wait here,” Sirius says and then slips out from under the cloak before Remus can protest. He slowly walks around the Willow and then pulls a long stick out from behind a bush with a triumphant, “Ha!”

Remus could have told him that it was there; Madame Pomfrey always uses the very same stick, but in the end he keeps his mouth shut. He’s too preoccupied thinking about how he’s going to apologise. He has to. He’ll feel terrible about this for ages even if Sirius, through some sort of miracle, decides to just let it go.

They climb down into the passageway and Remus finally tugs off the cloak. Sirius leads the way, stepping over tree roots with the expertise of someone who’s walked down this tunnel countless of times.

“Sirius…” Remus says. He might as well get it over with.

“Hm?” Sirius pushes open the trapdoor and climbs up into the Shack. He holds his hands out to Remus.

He takes them because he really doesn’t quite have the strength to pull himself up at the moment. They nearly lose their balance when Remus stumbles against Sirius and Sirius catches him around the waist. “Sorry,” Remus says, and takes a step back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sirius says. His fingers are still caught in the hem of Remus’ jumper, his eyes are fixed on Remus’. Sirius tugs at his jumper, pulling Remus back against him and even though Remus’ brain hasn’t managed to figure out what’s going on, he lets himself be tugged.

Sirius kisses him, quickly, on the lips. Once, twice, then a hand curls around his neck to keep him close, and Remus’ own hands scrabble for something to hold on to, eventually coming to rest at Sirius’ sides.

Come to think about it, this is more than just nice, although thinking isn’t something that Remus is that good at right now. He decides to focus on Sirius instead, on his lips, on his hands, on his hair, soft between Remus’ fingers. He can’t quite remember when exactly his hands started roaming, but it seems that Sirius doesn’t mind at all. Teeth graze his bottom lip and Remus gasps.

Sirius pulls away then – not far, Remus won’t let him go far – his forehead still resting against Remus’. “Nice move with the jacket, Moony.”

“What?”

“Well, you _forgot_ it.”

Remus snorts. “It wasn’t a _move_. I really did forget it.”

“Oh,” is all that Sirius says and steps away. Some of his hair sticks up and his robes look a little rumpled. His cheeks are flushed.

“Sirius,” Remus says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t know how they were kissing a moment ago and now they’re staring at each other awkwardly.

“Remus,” Sirius says defiantly.

“What…” Remus sighs. He wants to lie down and sleep for a week. “What just happened?”

“You kissed me this morning,” Sirius says, his tone verging on accusing. “I simply wanted to return the favour.”

Remus senses a _but_ coming, but Sirius only folds his arms across his chest, jaw set. He has no idea how Sirius switches between moods so quickly, one second everything is fine, the next he’s distant and abrasive.

“I’ll get the jacket,” Sirius mutters and then trudges up the stairs.

“Oh, yes, just walk away,” Remus says and follows him, “that’ll surely solve all of your problems.”

“You just said–”

“Yes, please tell me what I said that caused all this stomping, you so rarely do.”

“Piss off, Moony.” Clouds of dust rise up when Sirius stomps over the dusty carpet and over to the bed.

Remus leans against the frame of the door, trying to figure out how all of this went so horribly wrong. “You know, I wanted to apologize for kissing you earlier, but then you kissed me and I thought maybe I don’t have to after all, and now you…” Remus waves his hand, hoping it’ll somehow explain his confusion.

Sirius stares at him, still hovering by the bed, his jacket in hand. “You said this wasn’t the plan.”

“Of course this wasn’t the plan, I thought you’d hate me forever after this morning.” This is ridiculous, all of this. Remus and Sirius don’t talk about their feelings, Remus ignores them and Sirius pulls pranks on people and slams doors.

Remus sighs. He really needs to sit down. His eyes still on Sirius, he joins him by the bed and takes a seat at the edge of the mattress. Sirius, after a moment’s hesitation, flops down next to him, stretched out languidly.

“No offense, Moony, but it was pretty obvious that you weren’t _that_ into girls.”

“Still,” Remus says, even though he’s not quite sure what point he’s even trying to make. He looks over his shoulder to see that Sirius’ eyes are closed. “I thought you were.”

“Guess I’m not. Or not that much, at least,” Sirius mutters. There’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to make it sound casual when it’s really not.

Remus also lies down, keeping a careful distance. He has a feeling that Sirius might have not spent as much time thinking about this as he has. “So I kissed you,” Remus says, “and you kissed me. And you don’t hate me.”

“Not a single person on this planet could ever hate you.”

Remus can’t help but laugh. “Right.”

“Well, no one who actually knows you and doesn’t judge you based on the whole werewolf business.”

“People usually aren’t too keen on getting to know me once they become aware of the _werewolf business_.” Remus is lucky because not too many people know about his condition, but he has enough experience with people recoiling from him, with eyes looking at him in disgust, in fear even.

Fingers curl around Remus’ wrist. “Their loss,” Sirius says, thumb slowly dragging across Remus’ skin. “So when you said this wasn’t the plan, you didn’t mean that you absolutely didn’t want me to kiss you under any circumstances, huh?”

Remus turns to look at Sirius, who is now facing him, much like this morning, a smirk on his face. “How did you even…” He takes a deep breath. Sirius’ mind must be such a strange place to be. But who is Remus to talk. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. What he means is that they both are.

“I’m also incredibly handsome and flawless, which is why I’m not at all surprised that you’ve chosen to kiss me.”

“Let’s not forget that you also kissed me,” Remus says. He doesn’t mean to sound smug, but things usually don’t go this well for him on the day after the full moon.

“Yes, I think I should do that again, what do you think?”

Remus grins. “I think that’d be very nice.”

“Just _nice_?”

“I didn’t mean to insult your astounding abilities.”

“That’s better.”

“Why aren’t you kissing me, then?”

“You’re too far away.”

“I’m _right_ here,” Remus says. Although he’d have to move at least a little bit to get to Sirius. And Sirius would have to move to get to him.

Sirius hums, his eyelids fluttering. “No, Moony, you should come over here.”

“I could meet you halfway.”

“That could work,” Sirius says and rolls over.

“You look tired,” Remus says, slowly inching closer.

“You’re really bad at this.” Sirius wraps an arm around him. “But I forgive you because you also look tired. And you’re the one who slept all day.” He tucks his head under Remus’ chin and nuzzles against his neck. “I’ll kiss you in a minute.”

They can’t stay here for long, someone – mainly James and Peter – is bound to notice that they’ve been gone for a while. Much longer than it should take to simply pick up Sirius’ jacket. For now, Remus is happy to ignore that particular fact. “Actually,” he says and carefully cards his fingers through Sirius’ hair, “this is nice, too.”

Sirius huffs out a laugh. “Just nice?”

“Shut up,” Remus says and tilts Sirius’ head up to kiss him.

 

**July 1977**

There’s a jacket in Remus’ trunk. Not just any jacket. It’s Sirius’ leather jacket, neatly folded, right on top of all of his other clothes. Remus is sure that it wasn’t there when he closed his trunk this morning.

Remus picks it up with a frown. He didn’t steal this jacket, so someone must have put it there to mess with Sirius. Because Sirius will undoubtedly throw a fit when he notices that his jacket is missing. He hasn’t been wearing it much, not with the sweltering heat in the castle, so Remus hasn’t actually seen it in weeks, but Sirius will unpack his trunk at some point. Not voluntarily maybe, but Mrs. Potter will make him, Remus is sure.

He wouldn’t have opened his own trunk for a few days if he didn’t want to finish one of the books in there. The book is forgotten now. First he has to figure out what to do with Sirius’ jacket. He slings it over the back of his chair, staring at it from the bed. Part of him wants to keep it because it reminds him of Sirius. But he’s also stolen one of Sirius’ shirts, deliberately, and that should be more than enough for him.

Remus opens his window for Merlin, the owl he got for his birthday. He let him out before dinner and sincerely hopes that he’ll come back soon so he can send a note to Sirius.

He’s still staring at the jacket, lost in thought, when there’s a knock on his door and his mother pokes her head inside. “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” Remus says.

His mum’s eyes, inevitably, fall on the leather jacket.

Before she can comment, Remus says, “It’s not mine, it just ended up in my trunk somehow.”

“Did it?”

“It belongs to Sirius,” Remus says with a shrug, hoping that his face won’t betray him and turn bright red. “I suppose James put in my trunk to mess with him.”

“He’s staying with the Potters now, isn’t he?” his mum asks. “Sirius?”

“Oh, yeah,” Remus says.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s… um…” Remus isn’t sure he can come up with an appropriate word. Sirius has his moods. Except that now he also apologises for his moods. He doesn’t use too many words, but he pulls Remus into broom cupboards and kisses him, or he pulls him into secret passageways and kisses him, or he slips into Remus’ bed at night and kisses him before passing out with his hair in Remus’ face. But he definitely can’t tell his mum about any of that. “He’s okay, most of the time.”

“Your dad talked to Fleamont the other day, he said Sirius’ family is, well, prejudiced.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

His mother sighs. “Well, I’m glad he got out of there. You tell him he’s welcome here anytime. Your other friends as well.”

Remus nods. He knows that they don’t really have enough space for all of his friends to stay here. They tried that once, the summer after second year, all four of them squeezed into Remus’ room. It was a bit cramped. The Potters have the most space, they soon figured out, and James’ parents don’t seem to mind too much that they stay with them for a while over the summer each and every year. Well, Sirius is a permanent guest now, but Remus and Peter are going to join them for two weeks in August.

August, Sirius reminded him last night, is still weeks away. Remus already misses his friends, and he know he’ll miss Sirius sneaking into his bed at night, even though he hogs the covers and pushes his elbow into Remus’ ribs and drools on his pillow. Although he also did that before they started with the, well, canoodling.

Remus falls asleep before Merlin returns, but he’s sitting on the windowsill when he wakes up. He rolls up the note he wrote for Sirius last night – _I have something of yours that you might want back_ – and sends Merlin on his way.

He does his best not to, but he spends most of the day glancing out the window, trying to spot Merlin somewhere on the horizon. Remus helps his mum in the garden, not really paying too much attention to the weeds he’s supposed to pull out, his thoughts constantly wandering.

“Remus, you’re supposed to be pulling out weeds, not carrots.”

Remus looks down at the carrot that’s dangling off the supposed weed he’d pulled out of the earth. “Oh. Sorry, I wasn’t… paying attention.”

His mum smiles knowingly. “Waiting for Merlin, aren’t you?”

“No, I was just…” Remus shakes his head at the carrot. “Maybe.”

The knowing smile on his mum’s face is still there and Remus is pretty sure that she thinks this is about a girl. He isn’t quite sure when it started, but at some point his parents started to suspect that a lot of things he did had something to do with a girl. Mostly, the weird things he did had nothing to with girls and a lot to do with Sirius and his strange and a-little-too-imaginative summer break plans. Nothing has changed about that.

Merlin eventually comes back, tapping his beak against the kitchen window while they’re having dinner. Remus nearly trips over his chair when he jumps up to let him in. Merlin has a scroll of parchment tied to his leg and obediently stretches it out for Remus.

_My dearest Moonykins_ , the message reads, _I do know that you have taken my innocence, however, I’m not entirely certain if I’ll ever want it back. Just kidding, I’ll come by to get the jacket tomorrow. Hope you’ll be home, otherwise I’ll sit outside your house and pine for you all day long._

Remus is glad that his face is turned away from his parents. So Sirius is coming by tomorrow. That’s fine. Absolutely fine.

He tells his parents, just so they won’t be surprised when Sirius suddenly shows up on their doorstep and then goes upstairs to read after dinner. Remus is pretty sure that he’s one of the very few students who actually do their summer reading. They can’t really afford to go anywhere on holiday, except for maybe a visit to his mother’s family, who live by the coast. Remus has never liked them much. They might not know about him being a werewolf, but they certainly look at him like there’s something not right with him. His parents are going without him this year while Remus stays with the Potters.

Remus doesn’t stay up too long, even though he’s sure that Sirius won’t show up early in the morning. When he turns off the lights and closes his eyes, he realises that he should have stayed up another hour or two after all. He isn’t tired. His thoughts immediately jump to Sirius. It’s incredibly inconvenient. 

He turns over, wrapping the covers around him like a cocoon, which turns out to be a huge mistake, because it’s summer and he starts sweating about two seconds later. Remus frees himself, kicking the covers to the bottom of the bed, which also turns out to be an equally big mistake, so he pulls them back up, sticking out one foot with a sigh.

Whatever he does, it’s not really helping him fall asleep faster. Remus drifts in and out of sleep, wondering all the while when Sirius is going to arrive and how long he’s going to stay.

Remus wakes up in the morning when the house is still quiet and his parents haven’t started rummaging in the kitchen yet. He’s nervous and it takes him a moment to remember why. Picking up a book in a vain attempt at getting his mind off Sirius, Remus sighs at himself.

When he hears his parents down in the kitchen, he gets up and makes his way down the stairs. His parents both shoot him confused glances and Remus stares back at them defiantly as he pours cereal into a bowl.

His mum eventually says, “You’re up early.”

“Must still be used to it from school,” Remus says with a dismissive shrug.

“I’m going to pick up some groceries after work. If there’s anything you want, put it on the list, please,” his mum says and puts the list in question down on the table. “Do you know if Sirius will be staying for dinner?”

“I…” Quite frankly, Remus has no idea. “He didn’t say.”

“Well, you tell him he’s welcome to stay for as long as he wants.”

Remus nods, trying to keep himself from thinking about Sirius staying the night. In his room. Remus suddenly starts to hope that his parents might have some evening engagement that they forgot to tell him about. He wants to roll his eyes at himself.  

His parents leave for work soon enough and Remus trails about the house rather aimlessly for about two hours, tries to distract himself with books and actually starts unpacking his trunk, the state of his room rapidly approaching the epitome of chaos. He looks at the mess he’s created with an odd sort of fascination, previously not aware of how messy he could actually be when he put some effort into it.

Remus is just about to decide how to deal with this mess when he hears the tell-tale sound of the Knight Bus arriving in the distance. He banishes the better part of the chaos to a corner of his room and runs down the stairs, yanking the door open.

Sirius is walking down the long driveway, waving at him when Remus steps outside the house. Remus grabs the house keys and starts walking as well to meet Sirius halfway.

“Are your parents home?” is what Sirius asks once they’re face to face.

“No, why are you–” Remus doesn’t get to finish the sentence because Sirius has already pulled him into a kiss.

When Sirius lets go of him, he’s grinning broadly. “Nice move with the jacket, Moony.”

Remus groans. “It wasn’t a _move_ this time either. I definitely didn’t steal it, it was just in there when I opened my trunk.”

“Yeah, I’m just kidding,” Sirius says, smirking at him, “I put it in there. It was _my_ move.”

Remus splutters, his face most likely turning an unattractive shade of red as Sirius casually wraps an arm around him and pushes him toward the house. “And what exactly was your, um, objective?”

“Well, I thought you’d miss me,” Sirius says, his hand slowly sliding down Remus’ back, “and I wanted to make things easy for you.”

Remus can’t help but laugh. “You wanted a reason to come here without James, didn’t you?”

“Basically,” Sirius says. A sheepish smile flits over his face. “Just picking up my jacket, no need for dear Prongsie to come. Can’t snog you if he’s here, can I? Anyway, he’s busy.”

“Is he?”

“Trying to write to Evans without sounding like a complete plonker. It’s not working very well, as you can imagine.” Sirius walks into the house when Remus opens the door for him, looking around with a smile. “Man, I haven’t been here in such a long time.”

“Guess it was about time you came by.” Remus pulls the door shut, then he buries his hands in the pockets of his trousers to keep himself from putting them on Sirius. “Your jacket is upstairs.”

“In your room?” Sirius somehow manages to make it sound suggestive.

“Yes, in my room,” Remus says dryly. He leads Sirius up the stairs and into his cramped room.

Sirius’ eyes go wide, not when he spots his jacket, but when he sees the record player on Remus’ dresser. Remus got it from his grandmother for Christmas two years ago. He doesn’t have too many records; he’s just borrowed a few from his mother, who has quite the collection downstairs.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” Sirius says, eyes still on the record player.

“Yes?” Remus prompts. He flops down on his bed, not sure why he asked. When Sirius spends a lot of time thinking, nothing good usually comes of it.

“I could get my own place. With Uncle Alphard’s money.”

“You don’t want to stay with the Potters anymore?”

“Well…” Sirius shrugs.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you stayed with them over the summer.”

“No, they don’t mind.” Sirius turns around, leaning against the dresser. “It was just an idea I had. I’ll have to find a flat eventually.”

Remus hums.

“You could come visit me,” Sirius says.

“I could.”

“And I could get one of these.” Sirius nods at the record player. “I’ve always wanted one, but my dearest Mummy would have confiscated it the second I brought it into the house. Would have blasted it to pieces and that would have been such a waste.” He carefully picks up one of the records. Bowie. Sirius looks at the player, then back at the record in his hands, then at Remus.

“Do you need help with that?”

“If you don’t want me to break anything,” Sirius says.

Remus snorts and gets up, snatching the record from Sirius to put it on. Sirius watches him, the movement of his fingers, and eventually rests his chin on Remus’ shoulder.

“So… what now? Do you want to take a look at the TV?”

Sirius makes a sound of interest. “Maybe later,” he says and kisses the back of Remus’ neck. “When do your parents get back?”

“Not for a while,” Remus mumbles, a shiver running down his spine when Sirius slowly noses along the line of his neck. He tilts his head without even thinking about it. “How long are you staying?”

“Depends,” Sirius says.

“On what?”

Sirius’ arms wrap around him and he pulls him away from the dresser and back to the bed. “For how long do you want me to stay?”

To be honest, Remus wouldn’t mind if Sirius stayed for a week, but since he came here completely empty-handed, he’s obviously not planning on sticking around for too long.  Still, Sirius ends up spending the rest of the morning in Remus’ bed, fingers sneaking under Remus’ shirt and into his hair, Bowie playing in the background.

Remus makes sandwiches for lunch. Well, he should say he makes an attempt at making sandwiches, because Sirius is doing his best to distract him and doesn’t seem to want to keep his hands – or his lips – off Remus for a second. Remus can’t say that he minds too much, but those sandwiches don’t turn out too great in the end.

In the afternoon, Remus pulls Sirius out the backdoor, mainly because he isn’t sure when his mum will be back from work and doesn’t want her to find him with Sirius plastered against him in some way or other. They walk past the shed – Sirius eyes it like he knows exactly what it’s for – and to the edge of the forest behind the house. There’s a small stream not too far in that Sirius seems to take a special liking in, so that is where they stay, their feet dangling into the water. Remus steals a kiss every now and then, until Sirius eventually pillows his head in Remus’ lap.

“You’re still coming to stay with the Potters, right?”

“Of course,” Remus says. He runs his fingers through Sirius’ hair and twirls a strand around his finger.

“I might offer to share my room, generous as I am. Pete can stay with James, you can stay with me.” Sirius blinks up at him. “It’s only fair.”

“Really, so generous,” Remus says dryly.

“Unless you’d rather stay with Prongs. But I have to warn you, he kicks.”

“Yes, and you hog the covers and drool.”

“And you…” Sirius scrunches up his nose. “Actually, you’re a pleasure to sleep next to, Moonykins.”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“Never,” Sirius says, smiling smugly.

Remus’ fingers still. “I snore, you know?”

“Only when you’re sleeping on your back,” Sirius says, like it’s common knowledge and not something that only he would know because he constantly sneaks into Remus’ bed at night. His eyes flutter shut and he yawns. “Still, ‘s nice.”

“Yeah, it is.” At first Remus complained when Sirius started slipping into bed with him in the middle of the night when everyone else was already fast asleep, but now he’s almost disappointed on the days that he doesn’t. It was always nice, even before they started getting closer.

Sirius smiles up at him. “So you did miss me.”

“I never said I didn’t,” Remus mutters.

“It’s been, what, two days since we last saw each other?” Sirius says lowly. “Should we be worried?”

“Probably,” Remus says.

“Do you know that Muggles think about, you know, us, I mean blokes who are, you know, into other blokes… they think it’s weird.” Sirius’ eyes are still closed, but he doesn’t sound sleepy. “Although I guess it’s the same with purebloods. There won’t be any family heirs when it’s two blokes together.” He grins. “Mummy would be appalled.”

Remus hums. He’s thought about it, of course. This thing with Sirius, it’s not something he can tell his parents about. Anyway, he wouldn’t know what to say to them even if he wanted to, because he and Sirius don’t even have it figured out themselves. It’s like they’ve unanimously decided that they won’t talk about it, but it hasn’t kept Remus’ thoughts from wandering into the vague direction of what they are.

And of course he knows exactly what Muggles would think of their relationship, whatever it is exactly. Remus has enough Muggle relatives who don’t hide their opinions on these things. And a lot of wizards would agree with them, even those who aren’t purebloods.

“Does it bother you?” Remus asks eventually.

“Not really,” Sirius says. He pauses, then he mutters, “I don’t know.” With a low grumble, Sirius sits up. “I was just wondering what James would think. If he knew. Because he makes jokes about it all the fucking time, you know how he is, but then I think, well, if it was me and if I was really… you know… what would he say?”

Remus frowns. “Do you want to tell him?”

“He’s like my brother, I don’t want to lie to him about this, but I also don’t want him to hate me for the rest of our lives. Being disowned by one family is more than enough for me.”

“This isn’t connected to you wanting to find your own place, is it?”

“Maybe a little.”

“He wouldn’t hate you,” Remus mutters. That’s not what James is like, not at all.

Now it’s Sirius’ turn to frown. “Why?”

“Because he hugged me and told me that everything was going to be fine when you guys found out that I’m a werewolf. I believe the word _brilliant_ was uttered. People don’t usually hug me when they find out what I am. But James is the kind of person who does and if he’s fine with that, he’ll probably also be fine with two blokes being together.”

“So we’re together?”

“What?”

“You just said,” Sirius says, his lips curling into a smile, “he’d be fine with two blokes being together.”

“I meant in general,” Remus says. He should change the subject. Quickly. “Do you–”

“So we’re _not_ together?” Sirius interrupts. He seems to find this whole conversation incredibly amusing. “So what am I? Your mistress?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you are,” Remus says, nodding gravely. “But, if you want, we can also be _together_.” Whatever that means.

“Fine,” Sirius says, nonchalant.

“Fine,” Remus says and splashes a handful of water in Sirius face.

Sirius screeches and jumps up, stumbling into the stream, which ends with Remus getting drenched as well. Remus runs in too, tackling Sirius, who goes down with a shout, pulling Remus with him.

When they trudge back to the house a while later, carrying their shoes, they’re both dripping. Sirius keeps shaking his head, spraying Remus with little drops of water, and Remus has given up on ducking out of the way out a while ago.

His mum seems to be back from work, since her car is in the driveway now. Sirius stops in his tracks when he sees it. “Your mum’s?”

“Dad refuses to drive,” Remus says. “Doesn’t trust the Muggle machine.”

“Oh, I would so trust the Muggle machine,” Sirius whispers.

Remus laughs. “She won’t let you drive it.”

“I wasn’t…” Sirius gives him a shove. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“Occasionally you’re incredibly easy to read.”

“Excuse me, I’m unknowable and mysterious,” Sirius says and flicks a wet strand of hair over his shoulder. It looks completely ridiculous and it does a funny thing to Remus’ pulse.

Remus clears his throat. “Not when you’re making heart-eyes at my mum’s car.”

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius says and grips his hand, “you’re not jealous, are you?”

Remus opens his mouth to answer, then his mother steps out the backdoor and he’s suddenly busy yanking his hand out of Sirius’ grasp. “Hey, mum.”

“There you are,” she says, waving at them. “Sirius, it’s so lovely to see you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Lupin, it’s a pleasure as always.”

Remus huffs.

“Call me Hope, please. Do I want to know what happened to you two?”

They both shake their heads. Remus’ mum knows the stream in the woods, so she’s probably figured it out on her own.

“I thought so,” she says. “Make sure you don’t forget to clean up all the puddles that you’re undoubtedly going to leave all over the house. And, Sirius, will you be staying for dinner?”

Sirius glances at Remus, who shrugs, even though he wants nothing more than for Sirius to stay. Not only for dinner. For breakfast, too.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Sirius says eventually.

“No trouble at all,” Remus’ mum says. “Feel free to stay the night. Let me know if you need the spare mattress, all right?”

“Thanks, mum,” Remus says, turning to Sirius as soon as she’s back inside the house.

Sirius is grinning. “I’m staying the night, huh?”

“If you want,” Remus says and he so hopes that Sirius does want to. He takes a step closer to Sirius, because he’s not sure if his mum is still lurking behind the door. “We’ll get the spare mattress, but you don’t have to sleep on it if you don’t want to.”

“Where would I be sleeping then?” Sirius whispers and tugs at the hem of Remus’ shirt.

Remus only smirks at him and starts marching towards the house, Sirius trailing behind him. Remus gets his wand from his bedroom and quickly makes sure that they’re both dry, then Sirius sends a message to James to let him know that he won’t be back until tomorrow because he’s been offered food and he obviously couldn’t say no to that.

Accompanied by a lot of curses that Sirius later proclaims some of the best he’s ever heard, Remus’ dad levitates the spare mattress from his office, which is really just a room full of things that haven’t found a place anywhere else in the house, up to Remus’ room.

They spend the evening watching Muggle TV and Sirius apparently finds it so exciting that Remus has a hard time stealing a kiss once his parents have gone to bed, much earlier than usual. Eventually, Sirius lets himself be dragged upstairs and flops down on the mattress that almost takes up the entire floor.

Remus closes the door, looking down at him.

“Moony,” Sirius says and reaches out his hand, “ _Moony_.”

“Hm?” Remus steps over him, spluttering when Sirius grabs his ankle, landing rather ungracefully on his bed.

Sirius cackles. “Nothing.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus grabs his pillow and tosses it in the vague direction of Sirius’ face. Sirius tries to retaliate, whacks the offending pillow over Remus’ head and then tackles him. Remus makes a feeble effort to get Sirius off him, but then Sirius tickles his sides and he knows that he’s lost.

Remus presses a hand over his mouth so his parents won’t hear his laughter, kicking his legs and squirming. Eventually he sucks in a deep breath and pokes Sirius in the ribs. “Stop it,” he wheezes and Sirius, after a moment, does but stays right on top of Remus, laughing quietly into Remus’ shirt.

There’s hair in Remus’ mouth and Sirius is heavy and there’s a book digging into Remus’ back and all of this should be dreadfully uncomfortable, but for some reason it really isn’t.

“Moony,” Sirius says.

Remus lifts his hand to at least pull the strand of Sirius’ hair out of his mouth, then he pats Sirius’ head, just because he can. “What?”

“I’m staying here, yeah?”

Remus snorts. “Obviously,” he says.

“No. I mean _here_.”

“Well…” Remus pulls the book out from under himself and gently pushes Sirius off him, only halfway so his arm is still slung around him and Sirius’ leg is still hooked around his, just enough so he can breathe properly again. “Here is better.”

“I thought you liked having me on top of you,” Sirius mutters and nuzzles at his neck.

“Not when my parents are in close proximity,” Remus whispers.

“Right, parents,” Sirius says. “Won’t they…” He waves his hand at the now empty mattress on the floor.

“They both know how to knock,” Remus says. He’d feel better if Sirius went back to his own mattress in the morning, just in case. Then again, the more reckless part of him keeps thinking, what if they do find out? He’s a werewolf. It does put things into perspective.

“Hm, so that’s where you learned that,” Sirius says. “So it’s okay?”

“It’s okay,” Remus says. He sounds a lot more confident than he feels.

Sirius hums. He kisses the line of Remus’ jaw and his hand slowly smooths down his side, gently pulling until Remus turns over and Sirius can kiss him properly. Remus hates how he loses track of time when they kiss, really, sometimes he feels like an entire day could go by and he’d hardly even notice. Sirius’ mouth is distracting, and so are his hands, his fingertips, slipping under his shirt and tracing his spine.

“Moony.” Sirius kisses him one more time, then he pulls back, his expression serious. “Honestly, as honest as you can be right now, do you think Prongs would hate me forever if I told him that I’d rather snog you than him?”

“If you put it like that, definitely,” Remus muses. “Unless Lily finally acknowledges his existence.”

“I agree, that would be so helpful. Do you think we could bribe her? Or you could talk to her, because she doesn’t mindlessly hate you.”

“Look, I already told you, I don’t think he would. But do you really think that it’d be a good idea to tell him?” Remus asks. He’s certain that James wouldn’t mind. Although it might take him a bit to get used to it and it would definitely make things weird between them all.

“Are you kidding, it’s a _terrible_ idea,” Sirius says. “But I want to talk to someone about it.”

“You want to talk to him,” Remus says slowly, “about me.”

“Well, not about _you_ , specifically, just about things.”

“Things?”

“Things,” Sirius says. He ducks his head and tucks it under Remus’ chin. “Being _together_ with someone things. And maybe some Moony things.” He sighs. “I know that those are things I could talk about with you, you obviously already know that I’m snogging you on a regular basis. Or at least I do hope that you’ve noticed. But still. It’s not the same thing.” He mumbles all of that quickly into Remus’ shirt as if he doesn’t really want Remus to hear.

“You should tell him, then,” Remus says. He knows that in some way or other this is going to result in sleepless nights for him because he’ll keep asking himself how serious they are and what it means for them if Sirius tells James and what James is going to say and what James is going to do and if James will punch him in the face if this doesn’t end well for some reason. Because James is not just Sirius’ best friend, he really is his _brother_ , and if someone ends up getting punched in the face, it’ll certainly be Remus.

“I don’t know _how_ ,” Sirius whines.

“You’ll figure something out.”

“Actually… I keep dropping hints, but I don’t think he gets them.”

Remus’ guess is that James does get them but doesn’t feel like giving Sirius an easy way out and is waiting for him to tell him, because it would be hilarious – for James, not so much for Sirius. But this isn’t any of Remus’s business and he’s definitely not getting involved.

Sirius shifts, his elbow bumping into the wall. “Your bed is tiny.”

“It doesn’t seem so tiny when you’re not in it.”

“Did you just call me fat?”

Remus laughs and kisses him. “I’d never.”

The evening goes on like that, kisses being traded, Sirius making smartass remarks in between, hands wandering, but there’s no urgency behind it. There’s a certain laziness to it all and Remus can’t say that he minds. Eventually, Sirius just curls against him, mumbling quietly about breakfast, and then falls asleep with his clothes still on. And Remus doesn’t want to wake him up, so he grabs his wand and turns off the lights.

His bed really is tiny. The ones in their Hogwarts dormitory aren’t exactly huge either, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about falling out of bed when he turns around when Sirius is taking up most of the space in his bed. Remus can’t say that he slept well when he wakes up the next morning, but the first thing Remus sees when he opens his eyes is Sirius smirking at him and that’s more than enough for him, even though he looks about as tired as Remus feels.

Sirius stays for breakfast – Remus makes eggs and toast and tea, a little embarrassed about his cooking. Sirius teases him mercilessly from the second that Remus takes a pan out of the cupboard, but at least he doesn’t complain about the eggs that Remus puts down in front of his nose and he also doesn’t look like he’s dying, so they most likely taste okay.

If they’d got out of bed a little earlier, his mum would have still been home and she could have made them eggs that were a lot better than okay, but in the end Remus is more than all right with how they spent the morning instead. Mostly, Sirius tired to push him out of bed and tickle him again, but there were kisses too and since Remus has no idea when he’ll get to kiss Sirius again once he leaves, he obviously had to take advantage.

“Should have told Prongs that I’m staying for a week,” Sirius mutters as they walk down the driveway so Sirius can take the Knight Bus back to the Potters’.

“I think he would have found that suspicious,” Remus says. “And he would have got very jealous because you’re not spending any time with him.”

“I know, Prongsie is the most jealous girlfriend I’ve ever had.” Sirius reaches out to take Remus’ hand and winks at him. “You’re not jealous that I’m leaving you for him, are you?”

“I’m trying very hard not to be,” Remus says, his lips twitching.

“Well, if I’m ever in the area…” Sirius looks around, nodding at the trees in the distance, as if it’s likely that he’ll just happen to have some business to attend to somewhere in the middle of the woods.

“Obviously you’re welcome to drop by if you’re ever _in the area_ ,” Remus says.

“Might try to apparate, although it’s pretty far and I don’t want to leave anything important behind.” Sirius kisses him. “I’ll be back.” Another kiss, pressed to Remus’ temple. “Definitely.”

“I won’t be going anywhere.”

“Good,” Sirius says. “Maybe I’ll get some inspiration from Prongs,” he nuzzles into Remus’ hair, “and send you some sappy love letters.”

“Well, unlike Prongs, you might actually receive a reply.”

Sirius grins and reaches for his wand. “It was good to see you, Moony.”

“Likewise, Pads.” Remus steals another kiss, trying to not to think about the fact that it’ll be the last one for a while.

Sirius flags down the Knight Bus and gives Remus a pat on the back, accompanied by a grin. It has something mischievous about it and Remus can’t quite tell why.

When Remus goes back up to his room after Sirius has left, the leather jacket is still slung over the back of his chair, as if Sirius forgot why he came here in the first place.

Remus laughs and picks up a piece of parchment to write Sirius another note.

_Nice move with the jacket._

**April 1978**

“Are you sure you’re–”

“Sirius,” Remus says and much to his surprise it’s actually enough to get him to shut up. “I’m fine.”

“You look pale,” Sirius says, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Sirius.”

“Remus,” Sirius says and gives him a shove. “I’m allowed to be worried about my…”

“Yes?”

“My…” Sirius scrunches up his nose. “Oh, you know.”

Remus smirks and pulls Sirius in by the neck to kiss him. “Full moon isn’t until tomorrow night,” he mumbles against Sirius’ lips, “so we can go to Hogsmeade and you can buy a ridiculous amount of dungbombs. I’m okay.”

_Okay_ is a relative term, of course. The days before the full moon are the worst ones each and every month. He’d rather sleep until it’s time for the transformation so he can ignore his constant irritation, the headaches, the nausea and whatever else may come with it, but he doesn’t want to give in to the wolf, so he’s going to Hogsmeade with Sirius.

“Fine,” Sirius says. He leans closer and slowly kisses down Remus’ neck. “I know that James said he wants us out of here until midnight or whatever, but…”

“Yes, so we’re going to leave,” Remus says. He tilts his head, just a little. Remus isn’t sure if he can blame it on the full moon, but Sirius’ lips on his skin feel even better than they usually do. His breath hitches when Sirius’ teeth graze his skin. Sirius gently pushes at him until he budges and takes a step back. His back hits one of his bedposts.

“I’m just saying,” Sirius mutters, “if you’d rather not go, I’d understand. Anyway, Prongs and Evans will be in Hogsmeade for a few more hours, so…”

Remus just makes some sort of incoherent noise because what Sirius is doing is definitely going to leave a mark and his friends will never let him hear the end of it, but it feels good, really good, and his brain can’t focus on anything that Sirius is saying right now. Remus’ hands slide down Sirius’ back without his permission, they’re doing their own thing now, and Sirius seems to like it because he presses closer with a quiet gasp.

“I so didn’t need to see this,” James says.

“I thought you’d already left,” Remus says. His voice doesn’t sound like his own. He pushes Sirius away, because James is right, he really doesn’t need to see any of this. In the end, he was perfectly fine with the two of them being _a thing_ , as Sirius so eloquently put it, although his face was definitely priceless when Sirius told him. James also insisted on sitting them both down to give them the _if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you_ talk.

James grins. “Peter left. I just…” His smile falters for a second as he nods in the general direction of their bathroom.

“Needed to give yourself a pep-talk before you’re going out with Evans, huh?” Sirius says, winking at James. “Don’t you worry, Prongs, I bet you’ll get lucky today.”

The point is, though, that James doesn’t even look like he wants to get lucky. He looks _terrified_. He only makes a noncommittal noise in reply and pulls at his shirt and ruffles his hair. “Well…” He points at the door. “I should go.” He doesn’t move an inch, though.

“You okay, Prongs?” Sirius asks, a sly grin flitting over his face.

Remus rolls his eyes at him. He probably doesn’t need to remind Sirius of how nervous he was, even though he did his best to hide it. Anyway, it was just a lot of awkward fumbling in the end and this is a particularly bad time to think about it.

“It’ll be fine,” Remus says, hoping he sounds at least somewhat reassuring.

“Well, I suppose I can’t count on you two to give me _helpful_ advice.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve actually been–”

“Pads.”

“I’ve been a lot more successful than you and–”

“And we’re leaving,” Remus says loudly. He pushes Sirius over to the door, because James doesn’t need to know how successful Sirius has been in getting into Remus’ pants. He doesn’t mind that Sirius talks to James about their relationship, and while he has to admit that he is a little curious, he doesn’t actually want to listen in on their conversations.

“Don’t shag her in my bed, Prongs,” Sirius shouts as Remus pushes him down the stairs.

“Padfoot, come on,” Remus says, yanking at Sirius’ jacket, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Give him a break.”

“It’s a bit funny, though, don’t you think? James Potter, afraid of a _girl_.”

“Stop gloating,” Remus whispers as they get down to the common room. “If you were him, you’d be scared shitless, too.”

Sirius makes a choking noise when he spots Lily sitting on one of the sofas in the deserted common room, looking a lot more relaxed than her boyfriend, who’s probably still having a bit of a freak-out up in their dormitory. Her face goes red when she spots them and she smiles sheepishly before she quickly turns away and pretends that she’s incredibly interested in one of the sofa cushions.

“Moony, promise me something,” Sirius whispers as they climb through the portrait hole, “if we ever end up shagging, you know, _properly_ , let’s do it less publicly, all right?”

“I…” Remus suddenly wants to hide his face.

“You’re obviously still allowed to tell everyone that I’m a sex god.” Sirius puts an arm around his shoulder. “Although I guess everyone knows that already.”

“Yes, I believe they do,” Remus mutters.

“Well, you’ve had your fair share of dates,” Sirius says and leans closer, nose brushing against his cheek.

Remus almost wants to push him away, but the corridors are deserted. They’re probably amongst the last ones to leave for Hogsmeade. “What are you insinuating?” he asks.

“Haven’t heard any rumours about your abilities,” Sirius says.

“That’s because there aren’t any,” Remus says dryly. “Anyway, don’t you know more than enough about my, um, abilities?”

“I know that you’re an excellent kisser, sure,” Sirius says, his voice low, “and I know that you have very talented hands. But you never told us when you got off with a girl, you know?”

“And you told us way too much about it. You could say that I was trying to create some sort of balance.”

“Yeah, but most of that was just a load of bollocks, you know that, right?”

“Well, I suspected it, at least,” Remus mumbles. James and Sirius always liked to boast about their conquests, Peter sometimes chimed in, quietly, and less often, but he was still the first one of them to have an actual girlfriend. And then James chose Lily Evans as his potential future wife and never looked at anyone else again and Sirius’ stories became increasingly ridiculous.

And, yes, Remus did go on dates with girls. Two dates with two different girls, to be specific. They were both completely disastrous and Remus promised himself that he’d never speak of them again.

“Well, you’re smart like that,” Sirius says. “So, you’ve never–”

They turn a corner and Professor McGonagall is marching towards them. “Lupin, Black, do I dare ask why you’re not on your way to Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, but that’s exactly where we’re going, Professor,” Sirius says, smiling brightly.

Remus nods in confirmation, not sure if he’s supposed to be this close to Sirius or if it would be more suspicious if he pushed off Sirius’ arm. He doesn’t know if he can get in trouble for snogging Sirius Black, should anyone ever catch them, although he’s heard various stories of male Ravenclaw Quidditch team members snogging in a broom cupboard after they won a game and they didn’t get expelled, it seems.

Professor McGonagall narrows her eyes at them. “If anyone’s breakfast explodes tomorrow morning, I’ll be holding the two of you responsible,” she calls as she walks away.

Sirius sniggers. “Fancy blowing up the Slytherins’ breakfast tomorrow morning?” he whispers and pulls Remus into the Entrance Hall and then outside, toward Hogsmeade.

It’s a lovely day, barely a cloud in the sky, the sun warm on Remus’ skin. Sirius still has his arm slung around him and also hasn’t let go of the idea of exploding cereal. Remus listens to him as he rattles off idea after idea of how they could make it happen. It distracts him from the pain in his back that slowly crawls up his spine. Even the soles of his feet are hurting.

Remus is glad that after an extremely long visit at Zonko’s, Sirius drags him into the Three Broomsticks instead of Honeydukes. “The chocolate can wait,” Sirius says, winking at Madame Rosmerta as he pulls Remus to a table in the back.

There are posters everywhere, the Ministry looking for dangerous witches and wizards, warning people not to go anywhere on their own, to carry their wands, to keep an eye out at all times. Remus isn’t sure why they’re still allowed to come to Hogsmeade, although there are more teachers out and about than usual and he’s also spotted some Ministry wizards lurking around the village. It’s getting worse, though, they all know it.

Everyone in the Three Broomsticks is still in an excellent mood, but there’s a woman who Remus suspects is an Auror sitting at the bar, looking around in what is most likely supposed to be an inconspicuous manner, her eyes flicking to the door every time it opens. Remus is sufficiently distracted from everyone else around him when Sirius’ foot brushes against his ankle under the table.

When they walk over to Honeydukes afterwards, they run into James and Lily, who’ve apparently managed to leave Gryffindor Tower after all. James takes the opportunity to remind Remus that he’ll strangle everyone who sets foot in their dormitory before midnight.

“So, what are we going to do?” Sirius asks as they leave Honeydukes and walk back towards the castle.

Remus, digging through his bag to unearth some chocolate, looks up. “Huh?”

“Until midnight,” Sirius says and hands him a chocolate frog.

“Thanks,” Remus mutters and unwraps it. “We’ll just stay in the common room, I suppose?”

Sirius sighs wistfully. “I wish you’d look at me like you look at chocolate,” he says. “And you really want to be boring and sit around in the common room all evening?”

“I assume you have some other suggestions?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Sirius says. “I just thought we could go somewhere where it’s just the two of us. So I can do things to you that you only let me do when we’re alone. Or when Prongs is watching, like earlier.”

“I’d rather not have Prongs watch us again,” Remus says, licking melted chocolate off his fingers.

Sirius blinks at him. It takes him a moment to reply. “I, um… Do you fancy a walk around the lake?”

Remus nods, only because he knows that they won’t actually walk around the lake. They’ll make it to one of those huge trees at the edge of the forest and they’ll hide behind it and stay there. For a while.

They flop into the grass and Remus inches as close to Sirius as he can as they kiss. He didn’t put on a jacket before they left, so he’s only wearing his jumper, which was warm enough when the sun was shining, but not anymore, now that they’re sitting in the shadow of a big oak tree.

“Are you cold?” Sirius intertwines their fingers. “Your hands are cold.”

“Forgot my jacket,” Remus says.

Sirius squirms out of his own jacket and hands it over with a smirk. “Oh, _now_ you’re looking at me like you look at chocolate.”

“I am not,” Remus grumbles but pulls on the jacket anyway. It doesn’t quite fit him, but it’s warm and it smells like Sirius. Although now Sirius is sitting next to him in nothing but a shirt. He must be freezing. “Let’s go back to the castle. It’s almost time for dinner anyway.”

“In a minute,” Sirius says and kisses him.

 

**May 1978**

When Remus gets back to their dormitory after spending most of the afternoon in the library, it’s completely empty. Peter and James are still in detention and Professor McGonagall probably won’t let them leave until a few hours from now. Remus can count himself lucky that he isn’t with them. When McGonagall caught them red-handed, Remus was stuck in a broom cupboard with Sirius who kept insisting that James and Peter would be fine without them for another five minutes.

So Sirius isn’t in detention either, but that’s pretty much all that Remus knows of his whereabouts. He looks around the room to find their map; he saw Sirius tinkering away at it yesterday while Remus tried his very best to study.

Remus doesn’t like snooping through his friends’ things, although after sharing a dormitory for seven years there’s really no such thing as privacy. The map isn’t anywhere to be found, though. Sirius’ bed is actually remarkably tidy except for the clothes that are strewn all over it. The leather jacket is lying on top of a heap of shirts. Remus is surprised that Sirius isn’t wearing it, it’s practically glued to him these days.

Without thinking, Remus picks it up. He looks around to make sure that the dorm is really empty, then he puts it on. He’s glad that there aren’t any mirrors around because he’s sure that he looks completely ridiculous, but wearing the jacket is strangely comforting. Sirius would probably murder him if he found out that Remus even so much as touched it without permission.

Remus gives himself another minute, fingers slowly trailing over the leather. For some reason it makes him feel nostalgic, even though they’re still at Hogwarts, even though their time here hasn’t ended. Yet. It’s not much longer before they’re going to leave for the last time and it’s disconcerting to know that they won’t come back here after the summer.

He has no idea what he’s going to do. He made plans and thought about his career options, but if he’s being realistic, he knows that he most likely won’t find a job. He’s heard about Dumbledore’s underground organisation – there’s barely anyone who hasn’t at this point – and he’s been thinking about joining. If Dumbledore wants him, that is. Remus can’t blame him if he turns him away.

With a sigh, Remus glances out the window, at the grounds, teeming with students who’ve mostly given up on pretending that they’re studying.

“Nice jacket.”

Remus spins around and finds Sirius leaning in the door, smiling smugly. “Sirius, I didn’t… I’m…” He tries to slip off the jacket, but Sirius quickly steps over to him and shakes his head.

Sirius slowly runs his fingers along the lapels of the jacket. “Looks nice on you, Moony.”

Remus huffs. “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it.” He bites his lip. This is a bit embarrassing, honestly, he doesn’t even know why he took it.

“It’s fine,” Sirius whispers and pulls him closer. “As I said, it looks nice on you.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No, really.” Sirius’ hands slip under the jacket. “Very nice.”

Remus tries to squirm away from him, but then Sirius’ lips are on his neck and Remus very quickly gives in.

“I can’t wait for exams to be over,” Sirius mutters, lips brushing against Remus’ skin, “so I can do this all day long.”

“And where exactly do you propose we do _this_ ,” Remus says. “The Potters’ garden?”

Sirius snorts. “Wonderful idea, Moony. But…” His fingertips trail along the waistband of Remus’ trousers. “I’m going to find my own place in London this summer and I thought you could stay over. Just for a couple of days. Or maybe longer than that. Whatever works for you.”

“I’d like that,” Remus says. He doesn’t really have any hopes of having his own place any time soon, so he’s been planning on going back to his parents’ place at least until he figures out what to do. But he certainly wouldn’t mind staying with Sirius and doing _this_.

“Maybe you should steal my jacket again,” Sirius says, his fingers tangling into Remus’ hair. “Gives you a reason to come see me.”

“Can I just remind you that I didn’t steal it in the first place. It was your move, remember?” Remus grips Sirius by the hips and steers him over to his bed. “Anyway, I think we’ve passed the point where we still needed to fabricate reasons to see each other.”

Sirius smirks and lets Remus push him down on his bed. “Merlin, please steal that jacket more often.”

“Oh, stop it,” Remus mutters and shucks off the jacket before he flops down on top of Sirius with a sigh, slowly kissing along Sirius’ jaw, humming when Sirius gasps.

“Moony,” Sirius whispers, but it seems that it’s all he has to say, or maybe there is something else but it trails off into a quiet moan.

Remus hasn’t forgotten about the deal they’ve made. Even though Peter and James know, they won’t make a big deal of of this in front of them, so snogging on his bed with the curtains open isn’t what they usually do. But they’ll have the dormitory to themselves a while longer and Remus is a bit on edge these days, with finals, and the future, as ominous as it seems right now, and the full moon just about a week away. Sirius makes for a most welcome distraction.

They both freeze when someone comes running up the stairs, then there’s loud laughter and they realize that it’s just a bunch of first years. Sirius grumbles something under his breath.

“What?”

“It’s just…” Sirius pulls Remus against him. “This’ll be so much nicer when there’s fewer people trampling about.”

Remus smiles against Sirius’ cheek and gives him a quick kiss.

“You know,” Sirius says, “maybe you could help me find a flat. And maybe we could find one that’s big enough for, um, both of us.”

“Pads, I can’t afford to move out just yet,” Remus says, his good mood quickly dissipating.

“Well, you wouldn’t have to pay for it,” Sirius mumbles. “And before you say anything stupid like you couldn’t possible live with me without paying half the rent, we could make some sort of deal. You could cook breakfast for me, because you’re actually pretty good at that and I’ve never cooked a single meal in my entire life.”

“I can’t,” Remus says, hiding his face in the crook of Sirius’ neck.

“Hypothetically,” Sirius says, “if you had loads and loads of money, would you consider it then?”

Remus thinks about it for a moment. He’s lived with other people for seven years, pretty much, he knows that he’d be miserable living on his own. And he’d like seeing Sirius every day even after they leave Hogwarts.

Sirius gives him a nudge. “It’s just about the money, isn’t it?”

“Well,” Remus says, “it’s _mostly_ about the money.”

“Okay, so what do I have to do to get you to move in with me?” Sirius asks.

“Pads.”

“I’m even more serious right now than I am by default,” Sirius says. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean, I’ll be extremely disappointed and I’ll waste away, wondering where I went wrong. But money isn’t an issue for me.”

“Well, lucky you,” Remus mutters.

“At least think about it,” Sirius says gruffly.

“You understand why this isn’t easy for me, right?”

Sirius huffs. “Well, I get that you want to chip in, but the point is that I really don’t mind if you don’t.”

“But I mind.”

“And I don’t.”

“Yes, I heard that the first time,” Remus says. He pulls away from Sirius and sits up.

Sirius props himself up on his elbows, making a face. “You won’t pay rent when you’re staying with your parents either.”

“But they’re my parents.”

“So?”

“So it’s different.”

“How?”

“They’re my _parents_ ,” Remus says. “It’s not the same thing.”

“I know that it's not the same thing,” Sirius says. He stares at him, jaw set, then he swallows hard and folds his arms across his chest. “I’m your _boyfriend_.”

Remus’ face feels hot all of a sudden. “Well, yes.”

“See? So we wouldn’t just be roommates. We’d be… together. And boyfriends. And we could each have our own room, but I could stay with you and you could stay with me, and it’d be nice. You and me. And you could make breakfast. And we can both work for Dumbledore and his band of silly buggers and…” Sirius winks at him. “You’re smiling.”

Remus chews on his bottom lip. “Well, it doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking.” Sirius reaches out to take his hand. “I’m just saying, we’d probably figure things out. Somehow.”

“Probably,” Remus concedes.

“Think of all the things we could do,” Sirius says and pulls him closer. “No more broom cupboards, no more sneaking to the Shack. No more–”

“She’s evil, ‘s what she is,” James says right outside the door.

“No more Wormtail and Prongs barging in on us,” Sirius whispers and inches away from him.

“Oh, I’m sure they’d find even more creative ways of barging in on us,” Remus says. He steals a kiss right before the door opens. “I’ll think about it,” he promises.

Sirius grins and then jumps out of bed to loudly greet James and Peter.

Remus stays put, smirking at them when they start shouting and pulling pillows off their beds to attack each other. If he stayed with his parents, there’d be nothing but blessed silence. Remus could definitely live without the screaming and annoyingly loud laughter.

He sighs. No, actually he couldn’t. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated :)


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